


Wildest Dreams

by uncafeavecbarnes



Category: Knives Out (2019), We Have Always Lived in the Castle (2019)
Genre: Alcohol, Clothed Sex, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, F/M, Hand Jobs, Inspired by Music, Library Sex, Multi, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Party, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28738752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncafeavecbarnes/pseuds/uncafeavecbarnes
Summary: Charles is tall, handsome as hell, he’s bad but he does it so well. And so does Ransom, especially when he finds you both in the library.
Relationships: Charles Blackwood/Ransom Drysdale/Reader, Charles Blackwood/Reader, Ransom Drysdale/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	Wildest Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my loves. Spoiler alert! This was inspired by a scene in Bridgerton and while it didn’t happen exactly in this way, I couldn’t decide who was more fitting for defiling a fancy library in a manor with, Charles or Ransom? As it happens, the answer is both. Trust Fund Daddies.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcome. You can also follow me on Tumblr.

Dinner and drinks, a divinity of high society. Candles flicker, white teardrops of wax run. A golden light, the party swathed in glow. There’s chatter, hushed but by no means mundane. Musical giggles and quiet remarks. The clink of wine glasses. A record tinkles away in the corner, the music light and bubbly. There’s a sparkling kind of serenity that wraps the evening up. The perfect scene.  _ Almost _ perfect.

A conversation with a friend, but few words trickle through your lack of concentration. Attention diverted, no,  _ commanded _ , by a man at the far end of the room. A charcoal suit, fitted to him enough to display the muscles that lie beneath. Carefully coiffed dark hair, it’s almost black in the candlelight. Careful attention finds your eyes tracing the caramel streaks through it. A jovial joke he tells, steely eyes meeting yours and his grin widens. A polite smile of your own, you hurriedly turn back as a warmth blankets your cheeks.

Few things escape Charles’ attention, least of all your nuances. A man who reads people well, always a step ahead of the game. Always two steps, when it’s with  _ you _ . No doubt, he recognises the desire that burns in your eyes. Searing intensity, you can never look away from him too long. Smug temptation burns back at you, breath hitching a fraction, enough to force your gaze away. Hardly far, only to the man beside him. And it’s a mistake. 

Devastating handsomeness, roguish sex in his blue eyes and a strong jaw. Dominance you can’t doubt, a man who seems as likely to take no for an answer as you are to refuse him. There’s a familiarity to him, but mind clouded with Charles, you think little of it. You think little of anything else  _ but _ Charles. And you know he’s thinking little of anything else but  _ you _ , too. You know it in the way the back of your neck prickles under his gaze. You know it in the way his hand rests high on his thigh, fingers angled dangerously close to the noticeable bulge in his pants. You know it in the way his eyes dart to the door, and soon enough, his footsteps echo after your own.

“My friend’s a handsome fellow. Not nearly enough to be with you.”

Charles’ voice is nothing but a drawl. Dark, low, velvety in baritone. Every syllable seeped with sin that threatens to  _ burn _ you with arousal. Still, you find it in you to tease him. Even if for a single moment.

“Oh? And I suppose  _ you _ are?”

“This whole party… and you’re alone with  _ me _ , kitten.  _ I’m _ who you want to be with.”

You’re helpless. Helpless to Charles and helpless to your want. Perhaps your smile is teasing, but you give in so  _ easily _ to him. You always do. Sweet submission is all he desires from you and you hand it over so willingly. The flicker of dim light, the curt snap of a door. You inhale the scent of well thumbed pages and rich leather, every breath falling shallower until your back collides with the shelves and then you  _ gasp _ . A gasp that’s swallowed by Charles.

Charles kisses you, mouth claiming yours passionately enough to  _ bruise _ . Whiskey, tobacco, peppermint. Familiar tastes and a familiar ache for him. Fingers fist in his hair, tug him closer as he bites roughly at your bottom lip with all the possessiveness of primal need. You’re breathless but it’s Charles’ kisses you accept greedily like air. Kisses that travel down your neck. Kisses that trail along your collarbone. Kisses that ghost along the rise and fall of your breasts. Kisses that suddenly stop. You soon realise why. 

Charles Blackwood, in the library and on his knees for you. And you moan as if you’ve never seen anything so  _ erotic _ . You’ve never  _ felt _ anything so erotic either. His hand wraps around your ankle, squeezes gently as he palms up your bare leg. Every inch quickens your pulse and when his fingers skim the back of your thigh, your head tips back against the books.

“Charles?”

“I want you, kitten,” he murmurs, lifting the hem of your dress. “I have to have you again.”

“Yes,  _ yes _ , Charles, I want you, too.”

“No, I don’t think you  _ want _ me. I  _ know _ you  _ need _ me.”

A gasp falls from your lips. It’s utterly  _ obscene _ . Never has a man made you feel so  _ vulnerable _ , so  _ exposed _ , so  _ completely _ at his mercy. Charles’ mouth is made for teasing and he’ll stop at nothing to prove it. Playful bites along the inside of your thighs. Breath hot over the damp lace of your panties. Kisses to your clit through the flimsy fabric. And just as you think you might go crazy from how turned on you are, he pulls your panties aside and all but buries his face in your wet heat.

“My little doll has such a pretty pussy,” he murmurs into your skin. “And so wet for me, aren’t you? This is all for me, isn’t it?”

You cry out, whimper as he draws your clit into his mouth and sucks just harshly enough to make you writhe against the bookshelves. Tomes tumble to your feet, fingers seeking purchase on the mahogany. He growls, a sound of displeasure. A warning that dampens his face with a fresh wave of your arousal. And that, he likes  _ that _ . Enough that his fingers dig into your thighs, parting them so wide you’re spread open for him like nothing but a mere playtoy. Charles’ playtoy. And he’s wrecking you with pleasure you’ve  _ never _ felt before.

“My little plaything,” he chuckles darkly. “Aren’t you the sweetest? You certainly taste it.”

“ _ Please _ , Charles.”

“Do you want to come? My pretty doll can’t take it anymore?”

Hungry, blissful sounds as he flicks his tongue over your clit. His groans mingle with your pleas and your walls clench around nothing. But he feels it all the same, groaning as his licks into you, fucks you with his tongue to the point tears stream from your eyes. One hand gripping his hair tight, the other grabbing wildly at the shelf. You’re so  _ close _ , pleasure peaking and you crash, tumbling into sheer ecstasy with a breath of Charles’ name. 

“You were right, she is a pretty doll.”

You gasp at the unfamiliar voice, eyes widening at the low husk that echoes. Head flying off the shelf and in the dim light of the library, you catch sight of a man. Charles’ friend, the handsome one, with a smirk so devilish it sparks a white hot shiver down your spine. You swallow a mouthful of air that’s rife with sex. Drink in the wine coloured sweater that sits taught on broad shoulders. Oh, he’s handsome and he  _ knows _ it. You grow hot with embarrassment, an unexpected edge to the pleasure coursing through you at being caught with Charles Blackwood’s head up your cocktail dress. Charles, who is less than bothered.

“Ransom,” He mumbles, deft fingers keeping you pinned in place as he laps at your wetness. “Couldn’t you at least knock?”

“And miss the show?”

Ransom. A minute hitch of your breath as the realisation dawns on you.  _ Ransom Drysdale _ . 

Even though it’s so  _ wrong _ , it feels so  _ right _ . It shouldn’t turn you on so, knowing Ransom had been watching you the whole time. It shouldn’t dizzy you with lust, feeling his hardness against your thigh. It shouldn’t elicit a whimper, the way he sweeps a thumb along your jaw. Face tilting up obediently, your lashes flutter as he noses down the column of your neck. Gentle, but you know it’s nothing less than Ransom inspecting you and perhaps it’s downright dirty, but you smile in pride as he hums in satisfaction at what he finds.

“Ransom,” growls Charles, huffing as he’s pushed away. “I was here first!”

“Shut up, Charles,” Ransom growls back, cupping your cheek. “What do you want, pretty doll, was it? Do you want me?”

An answer that tumbles from your lips easily. Toned with desperation. Laced with renewed want. An answer that is met with a grin that promises to devour you whole. Yes, you want Ransom.

“Good,” He murmurs, eyes flashing dark as his fingers dip between your legs. “Because I know you do.”

And  _ yes, yes, yes _ . There’s no denying it, not with your breathless moan. Ransom’s palm, big and powerful, cups you demandingly. Thick fingers circle your entrance. And even after Charles has made you come, you’re already dripping with desire for Ransom. You’re entranced, unable to look anywhere but Ransom’s eyes and the unadulterated lust you find there is  _ maddening _ . You make your own lust known with a needy whimper. And gratefully, Ransom obliges out of his own impatience. 

You mewl as Ransom’s hands curve around your hips, sinking you down his hard length and your moan echoes through the library. Oh, he’s so big. Thick. And he feels so  _ good _ . Pleasure that’s exquisite torture, heaven and hell at once, Ransom fucking you in long strokes that has the books rattling on the shelves. You’re burning up and then, then Charles is beside you, placing your hand on his hard cock and you’re delirious with desire.

Sweat slicks your skin. Breathless as you do your best to obey but it’s so tasking. Ransom feels so  _ good _ , and you so desperately want him to make you come. A whimper. Charles is throbbing in your hand, fingers slick with the precome that drools from his tip. A whine. You’re so aroused you can’t see straight. The fleeting thought that anyone from the party will walk in any moment and it’s so  _ dirty _ , you with these two men.

Pleasure ebbs in as you rock your hips involuntarily. Gasps and cries thicken the air. Charles merely smirks, pulls down your dress to pinch harshly at your nipples and your walls flutter. You’re so close, wrapped in heady want and Ransom, Ransom slams you down on his cock roughly. Again and again.

“That’s it. Look at how pretty you are like this.”

“Perfect little doll, taking it like you were made for this.”

Words that tip you over the edge and once more, you’re shattering into a million pieces of pleasure. A shudder that rolls through you, a broken moan that’s muffled with a large hand. You tighten impossibly around Ransom’s length, soaking him so that even  _ you _ can feel it. The dig of your heels into his tailbone and he growls lowly, spilling into you hotly. A sensation that’s seemingly never ending, every nerve in your body sings at it. You tremble as he pulls free, moaning weakly as his release drips down the inside of your thigh. 

Barely a breath later and Charles reminds you that you’re only done when they say. Your hand falls from his cock as he all but  _ slams _ into you. It’s utterly  _ filthy _ , how he pushes Ransom’s come back into you with his own. You’re a mess, a wreck of whimpers and overwhelmed in the very best of ways. Filled with both men, finding pleasure in it. And you know, you’ll be dripping into your panties for the rest of the party. 

“The party!”

“You’ll go back just like this,” husks Charles, pulling your dress back over your breasts. “Exactly like this.”

“Full of our come,” chuckles Ransom, pulling your panties back in place. “Dripping with it.”

“And everyone’s going to know you’re our doll.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Come say hello on Tumblr](http://uncafeavecbarnes.tumblr.com/)


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